


Trial by Flu

by oneatatime



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fevers and nightmares and equilateral avocados, oh my.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trial by Flu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butyoumight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/gifts).



Looking after Matt when he was sick could be a real trial. 

Not the caretaking, so much. The part where Matt didn't want to accept that he deserved being taken care of. 

"Get up," Foggy said, for what felt like the nineteenth time and was probably only the fourth. "I'm not _that_ frail, Matt, c'mon!" 

Matt shook his head, and snugged the blankets more tightly around himself on the couch. He was pale, in spite of the copious fluffery encircling his entire body, in spite of the heat radiating off his forehead. Every blanket Matt had been able to find. Making him look like a demented hot dog. 

Every blanket, except what was already on the bed. Because he conscientiously didn't want Foggy to be cold. Asshole. 

His voice was small and miserable. "I don't want you to catch it."

"Then I should be out here and you should be on the bed. It's dumb for you to be out here! I am fine. Constitution of a horse. A healthy horse, not one of those cartoon things... though maybe I should rethink that. Wouldn't wanna go up against Rainbow Dash. She's pretty tough."

"I thought -" Matt broke off for a coughing fit, then continued, voice noticeably weaker. "I thought your favorite was Twilight. 'She could be the _**awesomest**_ equilateral avocado'. I think you meant 'equine', by the way. Or was that the tiramisu talking that night? You never could hold your desserts." 

Foggy sat down on the square inch or so next to Matt's stomach, deliberately squashing his hip into Matt's stomach. With as much dignity as he could muster, he sniffed. "I believe the lessons imparted by that magnificent show can be enjoyed no matter who one might favor, Matthew. Now are you gonna get up or am I gonna have to sleep here on top of you just to prove that I'm not scared of your stupid flu? I got your water and your juice and your tissues and your vitamins ready already. This is a really dumbass way to spend your first weekend off in two months but we're gonna do it properly."

After some more muttering, Matt finally agreed to being dragged into their bed. And wasn't that a thing. _Their bed._ Not Matt's, with Foggy staying over, or Foggy's, with Matt currently unable to sleep in his own place because it was being fumigated. 

Their.

Bed.

Though it was a lot more romantic when Matt wasn't all swollen nosed and hacking up a lung, Foggy had to admit to himself, but he was still smiling as he looked down at Matt in the middle of all the pillows. Matt, sick or whatever, was still incredibly goddamn cute. 

He poured Matt a glass of water, and got the painkillers and the vitamin C ready for him too. At least the poor guy hadn't been throwing up. Matt managed to swallow everything, then ran his fingers across the raised surface of the glass. "Is this the Batman one or the Cap-"

"Captain America, yeah," Foggy said, grinning. Matt put the glass back on the bedside table as Foggy toed out of his shoes. He was already in shorts and a t-shirt. Heat was at a comfy level in the bedroom. He didn't need any more, especially with Mr Furnace sharing the bed with him. "I thought you'd figure it out. Now get some sleep, okay?" 

Matt stayed on his side of the bed, very conscientious, while Foggy worked his way under the covers. He reached out for the lamp, and switched it off. There was enough light through the window from the stars, and the futzy neon "BEST SP_ING _OLLS" sign across the street. Gotten so Foggy had trouble sleeping unless he could hear it fizzing. 

"Night, Foggy." 

"Y'know, you can come over here. I won't bite."

"Yeah, yeah. Indulge me."

It was maybe two hours later when Foggy woke up with Matt's chest across the side of his face. Now, this wasn't really a BAD state of affairs. Matt felt good against him. All lean muscles and scars (though too many, always too many) and a protective hand in his hair. 

Except Matt was burning up, and he was muttering under his breath.

"Whassat?"

Matt repeated himself. "Lost my best friend. You stay here, be still, I'll protect you." 

Foggy blinked, and squirmed a little. He couldn't quite see Matt's posture, not from where he was with Matt's knee over his hip and Matt's pectoral muscles against his cheek, but he could feel it. Matt was meerkating around alertly, using his senses to try to find some terrible threat. 

"I'm Foggy," Foggy said gently. The fever must've hit him hard. Dammit. If it didn't break, he'd have to take him back to the doctor in the morning. 

Matt's voice was grim. "Yeah, me too. Didn't get much sleep. If you see my best friend let me know." 

Foggy sighed, and obediently remained still.

Matt... did the same.

There was no sound.

There continued being no sound. 

"There's nothing here," Foggy tried. 

Matt shook his head. Foggy twitched, because there were pins and needles in one foot and he really needed to move it, but the second he twitched again he had a Matt foot on top of his. " _I've lost Foggy._ " 

There was utter heartbreak and misery in his voice. Foggy froze. Shit. Okay. So this was more than just the fever. This was a nightmare coupled with bad memories from when he'd found out about Matt and things had gone completely to hell for a while between them. 

"Foggy's okay, Matt," Foggy said with the utmost gentleness. He had a hand kinda free, so he found the closest bit of Matt and started stroking it softly. It was a shoulder, he thought. Good. Shoulders were neutral and he didn't think Matt'd been injured there lately. "Promise. Foggy's fine." 

"N-no........"

Uncertainty this time. Foggy relaxed a little. Good. His voice was getting through to Matt. 

...whoops. 

Foggy was somehow on his back on the bed, Matt straddling him, holding down his wrists. Hard. His face was panic in the dimness, but of course he wasn't meeting Foggy's eyes. Which was fine, ordinarily. Matt was his best friend, along with all kindsa other things lately, and Foggy knew him. He knew how to talk to him, same as he knew how to talk to sighted people and people with other idiosyncrasies. You adjusted, because it wasn't that damn hard and because it was the decent thing to do. Same as Matt made adjustments for him. 

Except right now, Foggy could use any kind of help he could get, including eye contact. But he settled for thinking sincerity, as hard as he could. Not faking it. Matt'd see right through that and would either lock him up in a cage for his own damn good as an innocent who could be hurt by whatever he'd nightmared had gotten 'Foggy', or he'd lock him up in a cage as the guy who'd hurt 'Foggy', and while they didn't actually HAVE a cage in the bedroom, Foggy had no doubt that Matt could fashion one out of a cotton ball and a sock, or something. 

So instead of thinking about his heart rate, and his perspiration, and his eye movement, he thought about how much he meant this. 

"Hey..."

"...what?"

"Matt? Foggy loves you." 

"Pfft. He may've, once. But I betrayed him, I couldn't trust him, and then he got taken from me..." Matt's voice trailed off in a long shuddering breath, and his grip tightened on Foggy's wrists. 

Foggy winced. This was no good. He had to pull some stuff here. 

"He does. Promise. He loves the way your hair falls across your face. Loves the way your ass looks in those stupid grey sweats that you think are really cute but they're only cute because they've got your ass inside 'em. Loves the way you laugh like the laugh's too big for your chest, and the way you smile when you remember something ridiculous he's done, and the way you wanted to touch him when you two had that big godawful discussion when he first found out about you, but you didn't, because you were too honorable..."

Foggy's turn for a deep breath, but Matt seemed to be listening, at least.

"I wanted to," he agreed softly.

Foggy continued, voice uneven, "He loves the way you grin at him like the sun's just come out when he enters a room."

Something damp touched Foggy's face. 

Matt was crying silently. 

"F-Foggy?" 

"Yeah, I'm here."

Lips met. 

Matt's arms clutched him convulsively, and it was a long time before they pulled apart. 

Matt climbed off him, and Foggy massaged his wrists. 

"Helluva dream. Um. Sorry." 

"Shut up, Matt," Foggy said, pulling him close. 

Looking after Matt could be a real trial. Luckily, Foggy was one of the two best lawyers in the world.


End file.
